


Video

by missigma



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missigma/pseuds/missigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lalna receives a mysterious package bearing a video from an anonymous source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Video

**Author's Note:**

> More odds and ends. This one was inspired by an anon on Rythna-Anonymous.

An envelope appeared at Lalna’s door in the morning, bearing a short letter and a tiny plastic memory chip. Opening the letter, he read in scrawling script:

“Saw something you might find interesting, so I’m passing it along. The best part is near the end, so keep watching.”

The note was signed with an x. Though Lalna momentarily worried that the chip might only have a virus loaded on it, he could not resist the temptation to insert it in his computer.

When the video began, the camera was focused on a simple wooden chair facing a desk. A shirtless man walked across the screen, and though his face was out of the frame, Lalna could still clearly recognize him as Rythian.

It was a few minutes before the mage again appeared on screen, now dragging the chair out from the desk and slumping in it. He stretched out to grasp a book that lay on the far side of the table, dragging it back across the ink-stained surface to peer at its pages.

For a few long minutes Rythian studied it, seeming to grow distracted as the time passed. He scrawled notes in the margins, before penning a few flowing swirls around the heading of the page. Sighing, he finally pushed the tome away. Glancing behind him, the mage nervously ran his fingers through his curls. Seeing no one around him, and clearly unaware he was being filmed, he relaxed in his seat.

His hand slipped underneath the desk, fingertips trailing down his stomach. Rythian ducked his head down and for a moment Lalna could not guess what he was doing. A soft sound played on the speakers, which the scientist soon placed as a breathy gasp, and then he understood. Rythian was touching himself, palming his cock through his trousers.

As Lalna continued to watch the video, he tried to guess who would have sent it to him. Almost no one he knew cared about the feud between Rythian and him, and there were even fewer who knew of his long-standing interest in the mage. Finally, there was only one person who he could think of who would take particular joy in bugging the mage’s fortress and passing along the dirtier details that he picked up along the way. Sjin.

On the screen, Rythian stood briefly, hurriedly shucking down his trousers and boxers and pushing them to his ankles. He sank back into the chair, resting against the back. Though Lalna still could not see anything below the desk, he could see the mage was stroking himself quickly. Rythian bowed his head, his lips parted though he remained relatively quiet, seeming lost in fantasy.

Though the scientist was riveted by the video, he found himself imagining how Rythian might react, if he discovered he had seen him like this. Surely Rythian would shout, he might even swing at him. Honestly, Lalna knew he would not blame him as he already felt the seed of guilt growing in his stomach. Rythian’s voice brought his attention back to the video.

“Lalna,” the mage breathed, voice so quiet that Lalna was certain he had only imagined hearing his name on his lips. “Lalna,” he murmured again, just loud enough that the scientist knew he had not misheard him. Rythian let his head fall back, his muscles taut as he came.

Stunned, Lalna watched as the mage pushed himself back from the desk, spent. The chair scraped along the floor as he moved. As he reclined in the chair, Lalna could see the entirety of his body. He swallowed at the sight, his own hand drifting down to press at the front of his trousers.

“Lalna!” a shout came from outside his front door. Within seconds, the door was open, and the mage himself was striding up the stairs to Lalna’s room.

“Rythian!” Lalna raised his voice, slapping at the computer in his haste to clear the screen before the mage could reach him. He found the power button of the monitor and hurriedly jammed it just as Rythian strode up to stand beside him.

“Sjin said he sent you something but he wouldn’t tell me what,” Rythian told him, wasting no time on pleasantries. “What did he send you?” he demanded.

Lalna weighed the advantages of lying to him, though he knew there was little hope of succeeding. “A video,” he replied vaguely.

“A video?” the mage furrowed his brow, confused. “Of what?”

“A video of you,” Lalna barely elaborated, not wanting to tell him what he had witnessed.

“What of?” Rythian demanded, Lalna’s evasiveness only making him more wary. The scientist did not immediately answer, uncertain how to tell him what he had seen. “Are you watching it right now?” Rythian asked, suddenly suspicious. Before Lalna could stop him, he leaned over to switch the monitor back on.

The video returned, paused on an image of Rythian resting in his chair, his bare thigh visible near the edge of the desk. Lalna did not dare to even glance at him as he stared at the screen, seeming transfixed. “You’ve fucking watched all of it already, haven’t you?” the mage eventually asked, his voice lacking the growl he usually used with him.

Seeing no point to hiding the truth, Lalna replied simply, “Yes.”

“Did I-?” Rythian was unable to bring himself to complete the question.

“You say my name,” Lalna answered, guessing that was what he wanted to ask. 

“Jesus,” Rythian swore, raising his hands to his face. “I’m going to fucking kill Sjin.”

Reaching out, the scientist again switched off the monitor. “After you’re finished with him, would you come back?”

Rythian turned from him, already making for the door. “I don’t know,” he mumbled noncommittally as he departed.


End file.
